


Miasma Theory

by RoseFreckles



Category: AU Star Wars - Fandom, Star Wars - All Media Types
Genre: 1600s, 17th Century, Alternate Universe - Medieval, Character Death, Dominant Kylo Ren, Eventual Romance, F/M, Fluff, Happy Ending, Hux is the Bad Guy, Plague Doctor!Kylo, Plot, Shameless Smut, Slow Burn, Smut, Star Wars AU, Strong Female Characters, bad guy death, set in England
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-05-03
Updated: 2020-05-25
Packaged: 2021-03-02 05:29:21
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,587
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23979766
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RoseFreckles/pseuds/RoseFreckles
Summary: It is June of 1666 and The Black Death begins to infultrate your small village, Eyam.Many people, including your father, have died from the unforgiving disease and the numbers are on the rise. To prevent the spread, the Priest orders plague doctors from London to keep people healthy and tend to the sick. The doctors must conduct daily checkups on everyone and anyone who refuses, can be punished by law.One doctor takes interest in you quickly. It only becomes worse when your house is on his list for daily physicals.
Relationships: Kylo Ren/Reader, Kylo Ren/You
Comments: 26
Kudos: 57





	1. Faith

**Author's Note:**

> Good day all! 
> 
> I've always been interested in certain time periods throughout history and I guess the 17th century has always been a favorite! I hope you enjoy this story of Kylo Ren being your doctor during the plague. 
> 
> This is NOT to be correlated with what's going on in the world right now and my hearts are out to all of you who are affected, quarantined, staying inside and staying safe. I hope you guys are staying home and staying healthy. First responders, law enforcement, doctors, nurses and people who still have to leave their house for jobs, I salute you. 
> 
> I want to point out that some facts, costumes and general settings are off from actual history to create this lore/fantasy. I study a lot of history and I know somethings are off/wrong for the time period. I wanted to make this story sexier and more of a fantasy, so some things just had to be different. 
> 
> I also want to add that Eyam was an actual village in the 17th century that helped prevent the plague from spreading on the trade route by isolating itself. So this is completely based on a place that survived the disease, and not a heavily populated area where it would have been impossible for reader and our boi Kylo to survive. 
> 
> ***There is a happy ending and you do not have to worry about family, reader or Kylo dying. There is plot and a major character death.***
> 
> For visual purposes - 
> 
> [Plague Doctor Masks](https://plaguedoctormasks.com/product/long-beak-plague-doctor-mask/)

What odd times you lived in. 

Months ago life seemed normal. 

You remember walking through the cobble streets of your village carrying a wicker basket full of bread and fruits from the market. When you got home, your mother was sitting at the table stitching up clothes your father tore from his strenuous job. Hours later, your father would come home covered in soot and would smell of coal and iron. 

Your father, Tobias, was a big, burly fellow with a thick beard and gentle heart. He was enormous compared to everyone in your town and that’s probably why he did so well at his job. Tobias was the “town smithy,” and the only one at that. He grew up learning blacksmithing from your grandfather and took over his business when he passed of old age. Your father was so incredibly good at what he did that even royals and the rich from London ordered custom tools and weapons from him. Your father's job and the money he retained created a more than comfortable lifestyle for you and your mother. 

Tobias was such a sturdy man that you never thought he would be at the unforgiving hands of the black death. Just two weeks ago, your father died of what the priest calls “The Plague.” You had no idea what that meant or how it came to him but it happened so fast, so fast in fact two days before he passed, he was walking around like nothing was wrong. He was as healthy as a damn horse. He collapsed in his shed, where your mother found him coughing up black liquid and dark boils the size of blueberries covered his body. The priest suggested that he be kept in his work shed until he recovered; unbeknownst to you he never would. 

Here you are now, wondering if anything would ever return to normal again. Over thirty died of this sickness within a month and the numbers were growing fast. Just yesterday, you watched Mrs. Evans bury her second child in her backyard. 

Getting up from your creaky bed, your white nightgown swallows your frame in a shapeless cover that went way below your knees, billowing in the air as you walk. Sitting down to brush your hair, you look outside your bedroom window and watch people mosey about the streets. The familiar sound of horses clacking their hooves on the stone while driving trailers of goods rings through your ears. The bristles of your hairbrush poke playfully at your fingertips. 

“You’re 23 and you still cannot get yourself together,” your mother giggles from behind you. “You’ll never impress a man looking like _that_.” 

You turn your head to face her standing in the doorway. Seeing her all smug while looking at you made you throw your head back and groan, “Why can’t you just let me be, I’m tired of getting dolled up everyday.” 

You give her a great pout and wide pleading eyes. She walks towards you and reaches out a hand for your brush. Accepting defeat, you give it to her while she takes a seat behind you on your bench. 

She begins separating your hair into sections. She starts at the bottom of your hair and works out the knots caused from tossing in your sleep and travels upwards. The chatter from the outside fills the silence while you both sat and enjoyed your company together. She slightly pulls at your hair from time to time as she braids. 

You know your mother was beginning a twist braid on each side of your temples. She then connects the braids together, in a half up half down do. This was the _only_ exceptional hairstyle she had you wear everyday in hopes to attract a husband because it “complimented your neck and face.” 

“The priest called a town meeting today,” she rises from the bench and heads straight for your wardrobe, “I have a feeling it's about this terrible disease going around…” Her voice trails off as she rummages through your garments. 

Sadness stabs your heart. Oh, how much you missed your father and his hearty laugh ring through the house. If only you had known, or if your mother had known, maybe you could have saved him. 

_I mean, I'm sure I could’ve conjured up some potion or herbs to help him get better_ , you think. 

“When is the meeting?” You push back thoughts of your late father, you knew how much your mother missed him and you weren't about to make her feel worse. Distracting her was the best remedy for now. 

“In an hour, come, I picked out your dress. The whole town will be attending, you should look breathtaking,” she displays a powder blue dress, cinched at the waist with gold lining around the square neck and a gold and white design that trailed down the middle of the front. As much as you hated getting fancied up, you obliged for her sake and changed. 

* * *

The town square is packed with people surrounding the church. You look up to see Father Mompessum standing at the top of the church stairs, already dressed in his usual black attire and white bib that covered half his chest.

Villagers became quiet as the Priest raises his right hand. 

“As you may know, we have been doomed with a terrible sickness that has infiltrated our village. This sickness is commonly called as ‘The Black Death,’ or ‘The Black Plague,’” he pauses and the crowd rings in murmurs. Your mother, hands clasped in front of her, stiffens. 

The priest lifts his hands, “But fear not! London has graciously sent us their best doctors to defeat this atrocity!” While Mompessum gives his speech, a cloud of tall black figures march in unison through the crowd of people. 

“Many unfortunate souls have been taken during this dark time. These doctors are here to ease the pain and suffering of those who are sick, and the members of families that this is affecting,” his voice booms over the crowd. You rise on your toes to get a better look at the mass of black over the crowd of villagers. 

The doctors glide in their dark suits up the stairs and surrounded the priest as he gave his speech. Your stomach felt uneasy. These men didn’t look like _people_. You try to scan each doctor individually, however their entire bodies were covered, including their faces. 

Engulfed in black clothing, everything they wore was either leather or thick dark garments. However, you were most confused about their masks. 

They look so.. _.inhuman_. 

A bird-like beak made out of leather extended about a foot from the middle of the face and circular portals were replaced for where their eyes belonged. They stood tall and menacingly with brimmed black hats, cloaks, leather belts, walking sticks and black robes. 

One doctor had shorter clothes with only black tights underneath and the other seven wore cinched black slacks with longer robes that covered their ankles. 

You notice one doctor, standing on the right hand of the priest, was wearing a gold patch on his chest. It was hard to miss something so bright contrasted with all the black, even at the distance you were at. He was unmoving, like a statue and you couldn't tell what he was looking at. 

They all could've been smiling at you, laughing at you or unamused behind that mask and you would have no idea. 

You noticed all of them were _big._ They towered over the priest who was common height for a male in your village. Their muscle mass was enormous compared to him as well. 

_What land did these men come from?_

“These doctors are required to check every household’s heartbeats, foreheads and bodies to make sure everyone is healthy once a day. They shall do their rounds through the town daily and you shall not distract them from doing so. If there are issues, these doctors have the right to charge punishments.” It seemed as though everyone else was just as awestruck as yourself. The crowd was quiet and looked quite perplexed by these newcomers.

Your mother grabs your hand quickly and squeezes it. “This is what we have been praying for. Doctors who can _help_ ,” she leans into your ear. You return her statement by squeezing her back. 

_If only they were here earlier._

Your eyes trailed back up to the priest and doctors on the church steps. Your breath catches in your throat when you realize the doctor with the golden patch on his right pec is turned towards you. 

You can't tell if he's looking at you, but he's certainly looking in your direction. You can't tell with that bird mask on, but it seemed like he was either staring into your soul or looking _through_ you. 

No, you definitely felt him looking at you, not passed you or at anyone else. _You_. It is a gut feeling and you _knew_ , but _why_?

_I bet he knows I’m one of the many who lost their family members due to this sickness, that’s why he’s looking at me._

You gaze at him, trying to see under his mask from a distance, wanting to know more about what they do and more about what they _know_. You want to see his face, whoever this was under that savage mask that pointed directly at you. You keep “eye contact” from the crowd in hopes that you will find all the answers just by studying him. 

A veil that was horrifying to look at, uncharacteristic and bland. Why in the world did they wear this? Could they not have come in normal outfits? You’ve never seen anything like this. Were they even human underneath those covers? Great curiosity burned through you. 

You could tell that the man underneath all the robes was valiant, due to his posture and body. They have straight backs and broad shoulders that fill up the space before the church. Perfectly cut and lean knights would describe them well since their muscles were visible through even thick clothing. 

“May God be with you all during these uncertain times. Place your trust within the church and within Him. He will not fail you. Amen.” Father Mompessum bowed before the village, and they returned the favor with murmurs of “amen.”

The doctors stayed put at the top of the stairs on each side of the priest as people dismissed themselves from the town square. 

You were unaware that your mother had left as well, so you were standing alone in front of the church. People passing by and the usual commotion began. 

“I hope your faith is staying strong lately, little duck,” the priest approached you smiling. 

“Of course, Father. Things have been difficult, however, we are pulling through,” you force a smile after a quick courtesy. 

“Ah, Tobias,” Mompessum nods and sadness fills you up. “It doesn’t feel real that he is gone. I’ve known him since we were both children,” he pauses, “but don't be fooled, you and your mother are strong and I know he is watching over you both. He was a good man and he is living with God now. Pray to Him, he will listen. If there is anything you need, you know where to stop by, ducky.” He places a hand on your shoulder and gives you a genuinely somber smile. 

_I guess everyone was affected by my father’s death._

“Come, meet the doctors,” Father stretched out a hand behind him to point you in the direction of the new healers.

After walking up the church steps, Father introduces you to the eight men in black robes. As a sign of respect, you curtsey low before them. “It is a pleasure to have you here and help us with the sickness,” you say, head bowed. 

“Pleasure is ours,” a doctor steps forward and tips his hat at you. Looking up to a beastly mask, you see it's not the doctor with the golden patch but the one with the short robes and black tights underneath. He was lankier than the others, but just as tall. 

“What’s your name, sweetling?” He offers a leather hand to you. You smile shyly and give it to him. The leather glove was cold but warmed from your touch almost instantly. The doctor raises your hand to where his chin would be under the beak, as an act of kissing it. The large nose took over most of their faces, so you were sure this was the best they could do.

You give him your name but it feels foreign to even be talking to someone you cannot see. You have no idea who is under that mask and for all you know he could be prince charming… or a monster. Your eyes trail to the others. They _must_ come from a different land, their sizing uncomparable to the men here. 

“Lovely, just like you,” the man could be smiling at you, but you weren't sure.

“I’m Dr. Hux. But you may call me Armitage. I’m the second doctor in charge.” He nodded and cocked his head to the side, “if you ever need _anything_ , darling, come to me and I will graciously give it to you.” He rose to stand up straight and pointed to a white hexagon over his heart, “This is how you can identify me. We all have symbols on our chests. See here,” the man pointed over to the line of men in veils, “he is the lead doctor.” 

He points you to the doctor with the golden badge, who was already staring at you _again_. Just like in the crowd, behind a sinister mask he picked you apart, little by little. Your heartbeat grew faster returning his gaze trying to find his eyes through tinted portals. 

“Dr. Ren,” he spat, “is the most knowledgeable doctor here. We all work under him.” You weren’t sure, but you think you heard jealousy through his mask. 

You curtsy again to show respect. Dr. Ren didn’t move. 

“Well darling, we are going to explore the town. Don’t forget we are at the inn right there,” Dr. Hux points to the stone building next to St. Lawrence church, “we occupy the whole cottage. Good day, sweetling.” And with that, he tips his brimmed hat and bids you adieu with a small wave. 

Dr. Hux walked off towards the market and several of the doctors followed, except one. 

Dr. Ren stood tall as the others fell out of formation, his face still pointed to you. 

“Good day, Dr. Ren,” you panic and turn on your heels to leave, your dress twisting over itself dramatically from your movement. Not looking back, you head straight home. 

  
  


* * *

  
  


Your mother didn’t greet you when you arrived home but you could hear her clanking dishes and a fire crackling in the kitchen.

“Mum,” you call, “I’m home.” You step quickly, heels hitting the wood flooring loudly, to the kitchen where you find your mother stirring a pot of soup over the oven fire. She was slightly hunched over, back turned to you. 

Confused, you whisper, “Mum?” and furrow your brows. You were perplexed about the whole situation. She has always greeted you when you come home and she always gave you big hugs along with a thousand questions about your day. This time she didn’t even want to look at you. 

You approach her taking slow steps.

She turned her head over her shoulder to look at you and you noticed her face was red. Taking a closer look, her eyes were swollen and filled with tears. 

“Oh mum,” you reach your hands outwards to her and she abandons the pot of soup to embrace you, “what is wrong?” 

“I miss him… I miss him so much,” she sobs in the nape of your neck, “my heart _aches_ for him, and now, now they bring these doctors here. They could’ve been here two weeks ago to help… to help…” She cried harder into you. Your eyes filled with hot tears listening to her. You understood exactly how she felt. Your father was gone, and he suffered alone. 

“We weren’t allowed to even see him, I couldn’t say goodbye,” she breathed.

“There was nothing to do mum. We did all we could…” You clench her long hair that draped over her back and stuffed your face into her shoulder. “Father Mompessum said he can hear our prayers. He’s watching over us right now, I know it,” you reassure her, "have faith mum."

Your mother nudged her nose into you and nodded. You couldn’t be on her level of grief right now, you wouldn’t allow it. You need to be the strong one. You wanted to cry about him so badly, but not in front of her. Your father handled all the emotions between two women and now you needed to take care of her like he did. It was best to hide how you truly felt to help her. 

Just when you were about to suggest helping her with chores you hear a knock at the door. You both lift your heads up by the sudden interruption.

You touch your mother's cheek gently with your palm to wipe away her tears. Her skin felt like porcelain under your fingertips and you were afraid of applying anymore pressure. You didn’t want to break her more than she already was. 

“I got it,” you whisper, “stay here.” You fix your hair and wipe under your eyes to rid of any excess tears. Your heels click on the hardwood as you approached the large wooden door. 

A beat.

“Good afternoon, miss.” 

Your eyes were leveled with a broad, black clothed chest. Looking to the right, you see a golden embroidered star over his heart. You raise your gaze up and meet face to face with a leather beak and large black brimmed hat. 

Your breath catches in your throat and you swallow hard, “Good afternoon, doctor. How can I be of service?” Your face blushes hot in your cheeks and you could _feel_ the heat radiating off your face. You didn't expect them to come today, or this quickly after the town meeting. The house wasn't ready for guests and you felt almost... ashamed that a tall figure with a beastly veil was able to judge you without ever seeing it’s face. 

It wasn’t human. This wasn’t normal at all. 

“I am doing my daily checks around the village. Your house is on my route. May I come inside?” Dr. Ren’s voice was low and muffled from the contraption over his face. Other than his imaginary lips moving underneath the mask his body was rigid. 

_Of course_ he had your house on his route. The doctor who had no shame staring at you through a crowd of people and refused to even introduce himself when you treated him with respect. This was the first time you even heard his voice. 

You give him a half assed curtsy before obliging and stepping aside to let him in.

He takes a moment before entering and when he does his black robes and cloak made him look like he was walking on air. 

Once he walks past you, his cane jabs at the floorboards and cloak billowing behind him, a strong scent of herbs and flowers filled your nostrils. The smell was so strong that it prickled the back of your throat and it teases a cough.

You didn’t expect a doctor to smell so sweet and _minty_. 

You stood in front of the door as you watched your mother interact with the strange man in your home. You notice that he didn't take his hat off while entering your home _or_ talking to your mother, who is now head of the house, and you wonder why he hadn’t given his respects. 

_These men are definitely from another land._

Throwing customs and courtesies aside in your head, you walk over to the left of the common room and sit in a wooden chair your father made long ago. You clasp your fingers together on your lap and wait for Dr. Ren and your mother to finish talking. 

You begin to study him while he's distracted.

He lacks much movement when he talks. He stands there, towering over your mother with one hand to his side in a light fist and the other holding a black and gold walking stick. His stance was wide and confident. Despite his body language, his voice was unsurprisingly calm and low whenever he talked to you and your mother, like he takes his time to speak. Your eyes begin to investigate that bizarre outfit of his, it was the most outrageous get-up you've ever laid eyes on. The only items that weren't black on his body was the golden star over his chest and a gold clap that connected his cloak together. It had a little red jewel in the center and it was quite interesting to watch as it glistens in the light when he moves. Other than those small golden pieces, his presence in your home was an entity of darkness. 

“Dear,” your mother calls, “he is taking me to my room to give me a physical. I will be back momentarily.”

“A physical?” You scrunch your nose, confused.

“Yes dear, he will-”

“I need to examine her body for sores and marks that can be prominent signs of the disease. Next, I will check her pulse, temperature, eyes, ears and mouth. It should not take long,” Dr. Ren interjected in a low and monotone voice. 

He sounded cold, uncaring. _Indifferent._

“You are next when she is done,” he added. 

_Fucking hell._

“There’s no way I am stripping in front of you!” You stand from the chair.

Your mother calls your name in a warning to _behave._

Dr. Ren cocked his head to the side and shifted his stance. 

“These are the rules and you must abide by them, unless you want serious penalties.” 

“I’m not an animal to gawk at,” you protest. 

“If I have to do it, you must too.” Your mother says firmly. You knew she didn’t want to strip for another man, even if it was a doctor to examine. But you had to if you didn’t want a serious pension over your family name, especially after such tragic loss. You tell yourself not to let your attituse fuck this up. 

"But alone in your room? How do we know we can trust him?" You point in Dr. Ren's direction. 

"Dear, he's a doctor. If Father trusts them, we do too," she raises her eyebrows and gives you the look of death that says "kindly, shut it."

“Fine,” you pout and fold your arms in frustration as Dr. Ren and your mother disappear up the stairs to her bedroom. That was an argument that ended as quickly as it started. 

And now you wait.

  
  



	2. The Exam

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dr. Ren gives your an exam and gets a little close.

Footsteps pounding down the wooden stairs catch your attention and you shoot right up from your chair. A tinge of rage flares within your chest. 

Your mother came down the stairs first, smiling at you while Dr. Ren gildes down after her. His cloak billows behind him, emphasizing the haunty creature he is. 

“Mother, how was it?” You fight the urge to walk towards her, to check her for marks from the stranger in your home, but you stop yourself. He had seen her stripped, what else would a man do to an unrobed woman? Especially when her naked body was on display like a meat stack. 

“Nothing to worry about darling, t’was easy.” She nonchalantly walks over to the soup that had been cooking over the fire the whole time she was getting gawked at. 

You raise a brow and turn your head towards the black mass standing arrogantly at the bottom of the stairs. His frame is all high and mighty, looking down at you. His beak is pointed in your direction, piercing through the air and straight through your soul. He might as well take that mask off and cut your chest open with that sharp unhuman  _ beak _ . 

You hate that dreadful mask. You hate  _ him. _

He doesn’t have the rights to stare at you as much as he does, let alone waltz into peoples homes to look at naked bodies. Especially when you can’t even see his face. He hides behind that mask like a coward. 

Why does he even wear it?

“Did he… hurt you?”

“Why would you think that?” She furrowed her eyebrows, “he’s a doctor and checked me for any signs of sickness. He wouldn’t  _ hurt _ me.” 

_ Mother, you don’t know what odd desires men have.  _

Your eyes flick back and forth over her face, scanning her for lies. When she gives you none, you roll your eyes and fold your arms over your chest, darkening your gaze over to Dr. Ren. 

“Your turn,” a beat, “where do you dwell?” His frame unmoving while he speaks to you. All you could do was stare back at him, through his tinted portals for eyes. 

You stand there in hopes to size him up, maybe enough to intimidate him into not giving you your physical. To your right, you hear your mother call your name. 

“Be good, and don’t give him trouble. You have to do this.” She grabbed a basket off the kitchen table, “remember, I had to.” 

“You look like you're leaving?”

“We need some things at the market. Tend to the soup while I am gone, alright?”

“You’re leaving me with _ him _ ?” 

She walks across the living room and you admire her dress swaying as she did. She was always so proper, how the hell are you her child?

She looked over her shoulder to give you one last glare, “I said be good. We don’t want any penalties.” And with that, your mother was out the door. 

Crackling of the fire from the kitchen and commotion from the streets is the only thing that fills the awkwardness between you and the doctor. Without saying a word you turn on the heels of your high shoes, wave your hand for him to follow and guide him to your bedroom located down the hallway. 

His shoes click behind you, anticipating the dreadful task that is at hand next. If you could help it, you would rather be set ablaze than be alone in the same room as this heathen. Once you reach your bedroom, you stop in the middle of your area and turn to look at him.

If you had a chance to look at him without the mask, maybe you could tell if he was admiring your belongings. His beak slowly moved side to side, scanning over your large windows, your bed that had pillars that extended upwards and were draped in fabric, your vanity, wardrobe and seating area, all colored in white and green. 

Inside your head, you give thanks to your father for giving your family the most luxurious life he could. In fact, he _ was _ one of the top rich men in the village beside the council and Lord Mayor. 

“May I sit?” His voice was gentle at the start as he extended his hand to a chair.

You nod to accept, not looking directly at him, but you keep your feet planted to the floorboards and body still. You aren’t in the mood to give this man the time of day, let alone be a gracious host. 

“I am aware that your father, Tobias, had passed from this sickness?” 

_ Jesus, I wasn’t expecting that as a start. _

“Yes,” you say curtly.

“It is my responsibility to ensure that you didn’t contract that yourself. If your father was around you and your mother within his last days, even if it was two weeks ago, the sickness could still be in your home or clothes. I am here to make sure you are healthy.”

You purse your lips and scrunch your face in doubt.

“You’re just here to get women naked.”

He was silent for a few moments before speaking.

“If you think that is why I am here then you are greatly mistaken.” He lifts his beastly mask higher to look up at you from his seat. 

You huff. 

“Right.”

Dr. Ren pauses for another moment still looking at you through his mask. He is a man of few words. You fight back by not taking your stare away from his - or, you guess, what could be his eyes. 

He sets his staff against the other chair and reaches into his cloak to take out a small black leather notebook with some loose wrinkled parchment sticking out. He shifts through the pages with his leather gloves over his lap and stops on an empty sheet. He lifts up a piece of graphite and without looking at you he jots some notes down. 

“Have you felt ill within the last two weeks? Any chills, headaches, sore spots on your skin, loss of appetite, vomiting or loose stool?” 

You stand there, trying to make sense of this all. A man dressed in black sitting in front of you, in your  _ room,  _ asking you very personal questions. 

Now that you look at him sitting in front of you a little longer, you can see that the man was big. His shoulders were broad and hunched over himself as he focused on writing. His large frame sat uncomfortably in your chair that you thought if he moved too much it would give out underneath him. You could tell his legs are long and lean under his trousers as they rested perfectly still and his large feet planted on the ground. 

Your eyes lowered to examine his shoes. They're made from thick leather and surprisingly shiny with no marks or scrapes speckled anywhere on them. His shoes must be crafted from the finest shoemaker in England, you think, not many men around here wear high class shoes like that.

“Miss,” he calls to you. 

“No.” 

You shift your weight and the floorboards groan from underneath you. 

“Do you eat regularly or do you skip meals?”

“I eat regularly.” 

“Do you exercise? Have you had any issues at the market, say, carrying your basket? Any pain in your body,” his freakish mask still faced down over his notebook. 

“No issues doing chores, no.” 

“Have you been around anyone, other than your father, who has shown signs of illness?”

“Not that I know of…”

“Do you share food? Come in contact with many people?”

“‘Come in contact?’”

He shrugs, “handshakes, hugging, sharing food…”

“Other than my own mother, no.”

The sound of his graphite utensil scratching over the parchment is quick as he finishes his notes. 

Finally, looking up to you, he barks the dreaded order. 

“Unblouse.”

“Excuse me?” You cock your head to the side, “no way in hell.”

He lets out a muffled sigh under his veil, “you knew this before coming in here. Don’t act surprised.” He raises a hand and his beak shakes back and forth. “And, you shouldn’t curse. It’s quite unladylike.”

“If you thought I was like ‘other ladies’ then you have been greatly mistaken.” You mock, giving your shoulders a slight shake. 

His leathered shoe taps the floorboards impatiently, “I gave you an order.”

“I’m not playing this game.”

“I need to see your flesh so I can confirm you aren’t showing signs of sickness.”

“You saw my mum, you don’t need to see me too. If she doesn't have anything, then I wouldn’t either.” 

“This is required.”

“I’m not doing this.” You go to take your leave when he reaches inside his cloak for another notebook. 

“Then I have no choice but to write you and your mother up.” 

You let out a frustrated grunt. You hate how much power he holds within your own home, from within your own village. The last thing your mother needs is more trouble.

Alas, you do this for her. 

_ I’m stuck.  _

“Alright.”

You stomp back to the spot in the middle of your bedroom, eyes staying low to the floor. You feel yourself blushing as you reach behind for the buttons on your dress. Your fingers fumble with the tough string that locked the buttons in place, and it doesn't help that there's a million of them that trail down your back. 

Dr. Ren watches as you curse to yourself, contorting your arms and hands to unclasp tiny buttons from behind yourself. 

_ This is why mother always helps me... _

You were so used to wearing loose fitting dresses with _ no _ buttons or wires. Your mother is always the one who insists that you dress up daily to look “presentable.” But really, you didn’t care much for fancy clothes, or doing your hair. You just wanted to be comfortable and breathe normally without a corset squeezing your organs. You spent most of your time doing chores, walking in nature or at the stables anyways, who cares.

“Do you need a hand?” His voice interrupts your thoughts. 

You look at him and he’s already standing up from his seat to walk towards you. 

“I got it,” you still fiddle with the clasps, twisting your body awkwardly. 

“Yes, you look like you do,” he walks past you and a whiff of sweet herbs and flowers fill your nostrils like before, “here.”

A leather finger draggs your hair over your shoulder to ease access to the millions of buttons. Your breath hitches in your throat by the touch of him and goosebumps rise from your skin. 

You can feel leathered hands pick the buttons off one by one, slowly down your back. Even with the gloves on, he was quite nimble. With each prick of freedom from the tightness of the built in corset, you feel your ribs and skin breathe more and more easily, your skin releasing thankfully like dough. 

Standing there, redness plastered over your face and ears, you feel him unclasp the last button. 

It was a few moments before either of you said anything, or even moved. You didn’t realize that this whole time you were holding your breath. You notice the air graciously cooling your back now that it is fully exposed and free from the tight dress. 

Dr. Ren clears his throat from close behind you.

“Um, you may shed your clothing now.”

You give an awkward, short laugh and nod your head before sliding your dress off your shoulders and letting the gown drop to the floor. 

Shutting your eyes and bracing for the fact that you are fully naked and on display in front of another human being, you throw your arms over your exposed chest, hoping that would help you cover up. 

Again, the doctor didn’t move much for a few moments. 

“Doctor…”

You slowly go to turn your head over your shoulder but his voice interrupted.

“Don’t move, I am looking.” 

_ What a man of few words he really is.  _ Keeping your eyes on the floor and still covering your chest, he moves around to examine your body up close. 

“What are you looking for exactly?”

“Black boils, bruises, discoloration…” His voice to the right of you as he cocks his beak from side to side slowly sizing your body up. 

“Oh,” your voice is small.

Dr. Ren’s shoes appeared in your line of sight from staring hardly at the floorboards. 

“Look up at me.”

Slowly, you lift your face to him. He was much bigger compared to you than you thought. Seeing him from across the room with your mother and sitting in a chair was nothing compared to when he towered over you so closely. You knew from the town meeting and when he first arrived at your doorstep, but not like _t_ _ his,  _ up close and personal.

His beak towered down over you, his body dressed with dark robes, his hat a black halo around his head - he truly looked like the god of death. The god that looked down on your puny life, who can say if you get to survive or perish with one single swoop. 

And you were at the hands of him. 

You swallow hard, trying to scan his mask for human remains. You can’t keep looking at this costume, you need to see who is underneath….

Your hand twitches to lift a hand up to his beak, but it can’t. You don’t want to know who is in there… yet. It would be so easy to rip off his veil to reveal the heathen underneath since all of his clothes could restrict his movement to chase you. 

Not yet. 

“Your eyes aren’t yellow, that is good.” He says down to you. 

“What do you mean?”

“Discoloration in the eyes can be a sign of the disease.”

He stands there a little longer to examine the front of your body. You felt guilt and disgust bubble in your stomach as he gawked at your existence. 

“Remove your arms from your chest,” he says gently. 

Wanting to disobey or even run, you realize that this is it. He has already seen everything he needed. You can’t quit now, especially for your mother. 

You release your folded arms and drape them to your sides. You expose your chest to the air and to him. You feel your nipples harden… you don’t know from embarrassment, cold, hate….The doctor releases a breath and he shifts his weight in front of you, his cloak swaying behind him. 

He lifts his covered hands, and you watch them tentatively, as he slides a palm from his leather glove. 

The color of flesh popped out from his black clothing, screaming to you that he  _ is _ in fact human. His hand was large and veins curved through the back of his hand like little rivers bulging and running underneath his skin. His fingers are long and slender, the pigment of his flesh creamy and soft. 

And that hand drove straight to the bottom of your neck before you knew it, gently sliding a finger along your collarbone and then trailing down your arm. 

Your eyes were still glued to his tinted portals, asking a thousand questions through your gaze, that you didn’t care that he was touching your skin. 

_ Why _ was he touching your skin?

“Doctor Ren,” you whisper and he pulls his hand back quickly, like he touched the tip of a heated piece of iron. His heat was removed so quickly from his touch, but you craved more. You’re confused as to why he even touched you in such fashion.

“Your examination is complete.” He hastily puts on his glove and walks over to the chair to grab his belongings, “It was a pleasure to meet you.”

“Wait!” You step forward towards him, not caring for your lack of clothing, and fumble slightly over your gown at your ankles.

He stops to look at you, “Miss, I have other examinations I need to conduct today.”

“But, when will you be back?” 

“Tomorrow before lunch.” He walks towards your bedroom door, but you don’t want him to leave. He really is human, you saw his hand, you felt his touch, you want to know more about this man. 

“I look forward to seeing you, doctor,” 

He turns to you, hand gripping the doorway. You couldn’t tell if he wanted to sit and chat with you more, or maybe he wanted to stay too.

“Me too, lambkin,” he says to you before taking his leave. 

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> uh oh, dr. run thinks your cute uwu 
> 
> Thank you for reading! 
> 
> I'm sorry this chapter was short, I do have a lot planned for this story as for plot, I'm just putting it all together :)


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